Life on Mars
by Gliblord
Summary: In humans, loss triggers a predetermined series of stages of grief. For the ultimate being, it's more like an intricate thousand-tiered BOUQUET of emotions far too complex for you to begin to grasp-but mostly spite.


**Life on Mars**

**Day 0**

I'm frozen.

I am in the first starship in history, and the most unexpected. It is a fantastical thing, and perhaps a fitting one. I am riding the husk of an invincible animal.

I refer, of course, to my own body.

I once was a mighty oak, now I am a nothing more than a seed. A seed of unrivaled beauty, but a seed nonetheless.

I'm cruising towards that star I'd finally conquered. Or maybe, away. It's difficult to know anymore.

You may think I am being awfully calm and rational about my predicament. I cannot help it; that is the impediment of my superior mind.

Dwelling on mistakes is a human foible. I am cursed with a higher rank, a far more meaningful destiny. I must look to the future, ever ahead. If I was to be defeated, it would of course be this way.

And remember, I have been known frozen sleep before. It is why my kind were named "pillar men."

Might this be my true ascension? Could I not be called a "pillar" between the mortal realm and the heavens, now?

It is sad to be a human. When pillar men sleep, it is with glorious import. When humans sleep, it is in mud.

Note also, that this has made me the first living thing to sail the vast dark echo of space. Or at least, the first living thing from this solar system.

Sometimes I have wondered whether my race is extraterrestrial in nature. I should have preserved the remains of those whom I slew for research later.

Has it only been two hours since my mind snapped back from the numb of shock?

I wonder how many theories and laws I could come up with (and outpace the humans with) through sheer rumination. They have made amazing progress—I did not even know there were atoms, and the humans split them. I understood survival of the fittest, but not the mechanism of natural selection through genetics. I understood things fall, but not the majestic ambit of "gravity." However! They had a 2,000 year head start!

I do not need test tubes and peer review. I need only the power of my brain—that which humanity still has no inkling of its organization and depth!

Yes, I think, that while I am commuting to my next great pearl, I will solve cold fusion. I must look to the future. Now, if I recall, force is mass times the acceleration squared...

**Day 1**

What are "days," exactly? I can no longer use the Earth as a metric for measuring time. I suppose this simply means I am larger than "days."

I always knew I would conquer the sun, but to think I would surpass it entirely!

Days are hereby defined not as 24 human hours, or whatever arbitrary number those simians think is cute, but instead by how many epiphanies I come to in my meditative sojourn. Ten every day sounds like a reasonable standard.

I'm sure once my mind adapts, I shall be embarrassed for riches! One breakthrough every hour! Every half hour!

And the humans will never again have access to my towering intellect. Oh, how better off they'd be if they hadn't rejected my just rule.

But pah on humans. I must look ahead. Perhaps a far worthier and more advanced, spacefaring alien race will bow before me soon.

Looking ahead is difficult with the spinning. Each rotation seems another day, with the sun rising and rising again at a steady pace. I used to fear this dim flame like a human would an inscrutable pillar.

...I hope to land on Mars.

I could spread my wings. Perhaps I could convert the atmosphere into oxygen or carbon dioxide.

It's a thought.

**Day 2**

I would have kept JoJo as my pet, I think.

I would have been exceedingly fair to my pets. I am ruthless in warcraft but compassionate when the dust is settled. I am an adaptive creature.

I would keep him on a leash and skip over the water with him, frolicking with the joy that comes with observing the proper natural chain of being. Then I'd throw him a glass of wine to use the ripple on, as a festive gag. AC/DC might have enjoyed that.

What kind of feed would JoJo have taken to?

If I was feeling particularly happy one day, I might have tossed him a scrap of my own flesh. I can only imagine how delicious I am. It might even be overwhelming to a human tongue unaccustomed to tasting perfection.

Ah, but that is a dream now. I must look forward. Forward! Ever onward!

...I wonder what JoJo tastes like. If I had been able to absorb him, would he have had a richer texture than normal humans? Not only due to the life-extending properties of the ripple, but also due to his extraordinary character, I surmise he very well might have.

If I had absorbed him, would I have assimilated him straight away? Or might I instead have incubated him in my womb into an ideal vampire servant?

What am I thinking? I am thinking strange thoughts. The past holds no intrigue to me now. What's done is done! This is time better spent thinking of ways to rise again, as sure as the sun!

...I wish I could dream instead of think.

I wish I could sleep.

But ultimate beings do not need sleep.

**Day 3**

How will I fashion my new home on Mars? From what I understand, there isn't much to work with as far as natural resources. But there might be ice.

Ice all over.

I never got to learn much about the world in which I awakened. However, there is one story that stuck with me when I devoured that library. That was the story of Icarus.

I'm the opposite of Icarus. It would behoove me to fly TOWARDS the sun. It'd thaw me out. However, what I would do once my ability to move was restored, I don't know. Would I be walking on the surface of the sun? An absurd notion. I would much more likely sink to the center and be assailed by strong nuclear forces forever. If there's a closer parallel to hell, that would be quite frightening indeed.

Or maybe I'd evolve some organic battery panels to fully harness the sun's energy, in which case I'd become absolutely unstoppable.

Yes, maybe this is not a prison, but a _cocoon! _I must hold firm. Didn't I say I'd vanquish the sun!? I'll swallow it whole!

That is, if that's the direction I'm floating.

I hope to land on Mars so that I may gain my bearings and judge the prospect of swallowing the sun. Stretch my wings. Maybe I could convert the atmosphere-

ah, I've been over that already

What's something I haven't thought of before, what's something I haven't thought of before...

Deer. Deer are noble mammals. Stags have antlers. Elks and moose do, too. Antlers are made of keratin. Keratin also makes up the horn of a rhinoceros. Rhinoceroses are in a way just as stately as elks, if not as graceful. Rhinos can charge headfirst while in danger, much like humans. JoJo is also an animal, a very muscular specimen with a chimpanzee guile. JoJo's scarf may have been made of many ripple-conducting beetle carapaces. What would JoJo look like with wings?

No, stop thinking about JoJo!

JoJo, is this how you defeat me? Can I not expel you from my own mind?

Butterfly wings, they're gorgeously intricate latticeworks of iridescent petals that can only be seen at the microscopic level. "Microscopic." That's a neologism. Pillar men had no need to see the fine details in things. It's why I killed them. Microscopic, my eyes might be able to see at that level with some training. However there's nothing but empty space. Perhaps telescopic vision is what I should focus on developing. I could monitor the innards of the sun half the time and monitor the primping agents of the earth the other half, side by side, alternating views.

There must be a reason my mind dwells in the past. I must use that information to bolster my future. I will no longer run from reflecting upon my time on that blue marble. My flight from reality as a coward, that's what the ripple warriors would have aimed for!

I won't let them win. I know the ripple, too. I cannot breathe so I cannot emit it, but the surge is somewhat satisfying all the same.

Moreover, I can see a ripple that makes theirs a pathetic shadow. That is, the "ripple" of the cosmos, its waves and streams.

I think the cosmos has waves. One may carry me, someday.

Please.

**Day 4**

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

JOJOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

YOU HAVE PROVEN YOURSELF _**DESERVING.**_ FIGHT ME AGAIN!

Come to me, JoJo! I hunger for you! The Earth looks PUNY from here! I can't believe I wanted it! No, we must resume our battle amidst the harsh crossroads of stars! Humans have dreamed of rockets and starships, so use them! Shoot up to face me once again! Perhaps this time you shall wield a rocket arm! COME AT ME, HUMANITY!

No, you are now more than merely "human"-

COME AT ME, _JOJO!_

But, no, no, no no no no no! A mere space rocket is far too mundane for our clash, JoJo. They are beneath us. LITERALLY beneath us! I don't care how many decades it takes. When you face me, you must be swerving through the galaxies in your aeroplane. I will give chase on stellar wings. Our celestial brawl must never end, JoJo.

wryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyhahahahaHAHHhahaha

uwrywrywrywrywrywrywrywrywrywry uwryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

U_wreyyyyy. Uhihihihihihihihihihihi_

Hahaha, Wrysa Lisa lisalisalisalisa

Lisa Lisa, I'll kill her. That should grab your attention, right? Or maybe I'll dig up the bones of your idiot friend and wear them as a necklace! Nothing could diminish the beauty such a thing would be. If the ultimate being needed tear ducts, they'd be overflowing right now!

Today I think I am mirthful. The ultimate being does not mourn fate! The ultimate being can experience only infinite shades of **joy**! The joys of smashing, stabbing, grinding, tearing, all while singing and strumming strings! I will become the Shakespeare of murdering you, JoJo, thirty-seven plays of the same event written from every possible angle except "tragic." I want to wrap your legacy with my tentacles and suck and squeeeeeze.

I want to embrace you and sink into the sun. I want to barbeque and flay you. I want to replace your teeth with your own vertebrae. I want to smash you in the head with a mirror that shows you how dumb you'll look right before it hits. I want to buy you a car and slice it into ribbons as soon as you step inside for a maiden drive. I want to dip you into a vat of disease and insert a miniature rafflesia into your useless genitals. You are laudable, commendable, applaudable, and good. I must enslave, nay, _enshrine_ your demise with every tool the universe's arsenal has to offer. You must be my zombie chewtoy jojo

I think I may be confused as to what I desire, hahaha.

I think the stars should die so no inferior beings can witness our holy struggle. It is without a doubt too good for them.

JoJoooooo, are you thinking of me now? Did I hurt you enough? Are the scars I left you sufficiently smothering? I know you aren't dead! Every time I scream it confirms you survived!

I will _uwryyyyy_ I will make Lisa Lisa my dental floss, and I don't even need dental floss, so COME AT ME JOJO! SHOOT YOURSELF UP TO ME LIKE THE HAND THAT PUSHED ME HERE! If you die getting to me, you'll just come back to life, isn't that right!?

UwryyyyyYYYYYYYYY**YYYYYYYY**

**Day 5**

I must forgive myself. A whole day of madness, insane madness.

I possess an intellect that rivals the Creators'. I cannot be broken this easily! And besides, no amount of screaming will free me.

space... it _is_ beautiful, isn't it? I need to really stop and appreciate it. That should calm me down.

If I had made the universe, I bet it'd be prettier though. And the constellations would be striking far more intimidating poses.

No matter. Its grandeur is still appreciable. Moreover, I'm sure the universe won't end. Stars may explode, but space remains. That is the fabled eternal fabric.

I must take account of the power of the non-living earth that I so underestimated. For all the wonder of the world of _living things,_ they are always at the mercy of rock, fire, water and air.

I wonder... if I do become nothing more than a silent stone... would that not be akin to melding with the strongest element—The earth itself?

...Drivel. That is how mortals deflect the prospect of their inevitable ends. I am different. I will shed this shell whether it takes one year or a thousand eons.

I have not lost.

I have not lost everything.

I can feel my heart. It's not beating, but it's wriggling every once in a while.

I am frozen. That means I have ample time to gain awareness of my insides—all the better to study my composition for when I am free.

My heart, my lungs, my liver. All three shudder with something that might be called life. They are, after all, superior organs.

I have no urethra or alimentary canal. I have no need for intestines or rectums, for I absorb my food directly with no waste, converting it into energy slowly as it becomes one with me. The organs I have in place of those were not examined by my incurious brethren, and so it was I who gave them names—the orgone nodes, the traveling furnace, the osmosis bubble, the ossification glands, the air womb, the skeletal optimizer, the hemonblongata, the Cars's Area. All of these are far smaller than a human might expect. The rest is pure (adjustable-density) muscle.

For a long time it was the mysteries of the brain that fascinated me the most, however. I endeavored to document the biological process of vampirification through strategic brain puncturing—and invented the stone mask.

Why did I have it activate through the smearing of blood? Simple—because it's the one substance that I, as the strongest and smartest being, would always have access to. And because nobody would normally think to spill their own blood on the contraption.

I was a genius.

...When did I take the wrong path?

**Day 6**

What have I done? What have I done.

I cannot believe what a fool I was.

What was I after?

Wham and AC/DC both risked their lives for my sake. I utterly let them down.

From the very conception of my first plot, Wham and Santana followed our lead loyally. They too were bright young things. Santana, you were not my guard dog. You were the sparkling wind. You held the potential to become anything.

You could not know what would become of me; I'm sure your first objective would have been freeing me. I think I may have let you down.

Wham, I took you for granted. You have always craved honorable combat, a refuge from our race's routine savagery. I had not let my head swell with ideas of "conquering the sun," I could have made realizing that simple yet gratifying world a reality for you. If I had put my mind to it, we could have lived comfortably.

AC/DC, we were friends. You would laugh at every little thing as though it were the world's most amusing jape, but you never laughed at my theories like the rest. You always believed in me.

I did not mourn your deaths. I was too wrapped up in myself. For an ultimate being with access to the abilities of the whole organic world, that is the ultimate irony.

But now, perspective has dawned on me.

How many days has it been? How many days will I be?

**Day 7**

Why can't I stop thinking? Why can't I stop thinking? Why can't I stop thinking? Why can't I stop thinking? Why can't I stop thinking? I want to stop thinking, but I keep thinking this same thought over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over

MAKE IT STOOOOOOOOP! I _want it to stop._

I want to stop thinking, but that very thought is what's keeping me from doing so.

I rue the day I joined the host of the living! Damn living things! Damn LIFE ITSELF! I wish I could kill everything. I don't want to die. I don't want to be alone. But I want to die. So I must kill.

I WILL KILL YOU, JOJO. I WANT TO KILL YOU BEFORE YOU DIE.

YOU LIVED MORE THAN ME. IT'S NOT FAIR. I'M BETTER! **IT'S NOT FAIR!**

I'm frozen I'm frozen I'm frozen want to die please

You win, I lose, make it eeeeeend

Uwryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy


End file.
